


At the End

by little_abyss



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Aftercare, Comfort, Exhibitionism, Frottage, Multi, Platonic BDSM, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 04:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11328426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_abyss/pseuds/little_abyss
Summary: Becalmed on the Waking Sea, Hawke makes a request of Fenris and Isabela.





	At the End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aban_asaara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aban_asaara/gifts).



The boat rocks gently, shifting at its anchor.  Isabela’s cabin is half-dark, glimmering in the low light of the lamp, redolent with the smells of wood and rum and sex.  Hawke sighs.  

 

The ship has been becalmed, the wind leaving the sail sagging and lifeless four days into their journey.  Two days ago, Isabela had shrugged and grinned, telling Hawke and Fenris that they would just have to find ways to entertain each other until the wind returned.  But she’d been getting steadily more restless - they’d all felt it, and it had been that restlessness which provoked Hawke to ask.  She had wanted this for what seemed an age, but never knew until Isabela’s casual mention of it that it might be possible; that a long held fantasy could indeed come into the waking world.

 

It had been Fenris she had thought of first; she cares too much for him to want to cause him pain needlessly.  And while he had arched an eyebrow when she spoke of her desires, and drawn a deep breath, he eventually had nodded.  “I trust Isabela,” he told her softly, and ignored the way the Captain preened.  “I know she loves you, almost as well as I.  As long as we talk, all three of us, beforehand, then I will be there if you wish it.”

“Yes,” she’d breathed into the quiet of the cabin, “If you can, please be there with me.”

Isabela had chuckled and rolled her eyes.  “Lovebirds,” she’d mocked, her tone gentle, “You might make me seasick with all this  _ caring _ .”

“Do not pretend you do not care, Isabela,” Fenris tells her, his lip curling slightly, “You have a heart of gold, or so Hawke thinks.”

“You know the truth,” she winks at Fenris and rubs her hands together.  “So, are we talking about this or what?”

 

She blinks, bringing her mind back to the present, then smiles when Fenris kneels in front of her, his eyes worried.  Slowly, he reaches out, touching her cheek gently before asking, “Alright?”

“Uh huh,” Hawke breathes, and smiles slightly, seeking to reassure him.  “Feels good.”  He smiles back at her, brow still furrowed slightly, then glances at Isabela.  

“See?” she grins at him, “Told you.”

 

“You told me we would be out of the Waking Sea by now,” Fenris retorts, unable to keep the smirk from his face, “I hope you know your knots better than you know the winds.”

 

She shrugs and hushes him gently, then turns her gaze once more to Hawke.  After a moment of studying her naked form, Isabela laughs gently.  “The things I do for my friends.”  She rolls her eyes and then narrows them.  “You know what to say if you want out,” she says firmly, “Don’t you?”

 

Hawke nods sleepily, still smiling.  The ropes are firm around her chest, the rough hempen binding encircling her.  Isabela’s clever knots and loops hold her arms behind her back, the pretty diamond-shapes sinking slightly into her scarred flesh.  The tops of her breasts are crushed under the bonds, forcing the flesh to swell dramatically.  Each roseate nipple is hard; Hawke feels drugged with pleasure, alive to every cold breath of air which swirls under the door and each deep roll of the boat over the waves beneath them.  She sighs quietly, and Isabela smiles.  “Say it for me, sweet cheeks.”

 

“Denerim,” Hawke whispers, and Isabela nods.  

“Right,” she says, “Now rise up for me, onto your knees.  There’s one last piece to do, and I  _ know _ you’re gonna enjoy it.”

Hawke laughs softly and does as she’s told.  Isabela circles around where Hawke kneels, bending down behind her.  She hears the faint click of Isabela’s knees as she crouches, then  Hawke feels the rope being tugged at - a single pass of Isabela’s arms around her stomach, then a loop is made.  And then Isabela passes the rope between her legs and draws it tight against her.

 

Hawke’s mouth drops open and she moans.  Isabela chuckles behind her, tugging on the rope, pulling it so that it goes between Hawke’s buttocks - she pulls at the rope around Hawke’s waist, then passes it underneath her again.  “Catch that for me, would you, sweetling?” she asks, and Hawke blinks, looking at Fenris.  He shakes his head.

 

“No,” he says quietly, “I understand this is enjoyable for Hawke, but…” He scowls and shifts uncomfortably, then shrugs.  “Catch it yourself.”

“Spoilsport,” Isabela mutters, but there is no bite to it.  Hawke smiles slightly at Fenris, and he rubs his chin, cocking his head as he stares at her in return.  

 

Hawke smiles at him.  She licks her lips.   _ He loves you, he doesn’t understand and he loves you anyway _ , she thinks, then shivers as Isabela moves around her and tugs the end of the rope tight, tucking it and knotting it around her waist.  She grins, looking up at Hawke, then reaches underneath, between Hawke’s legs - a warm finger moves the lips aside, so that her hard clit presses into the tense rope.  Hawke’s hips rock forward, and she groans.  Isabela smirks.  “Legs together,” she murmurs gently to Hawke, who shuffles quickly to obey.

 

The narrow rope digs into the flesh at the top of her thighs, tight enough for Hawke to feel a slight discomfort from it.  From the knee down, her legs are bare - the rope coils around both legs several times and ends in a functional reef knot.  Hawke feels cocooned by it, strengthened and borne aloft by the desire which crests and fades within her in a constant rising swell.  She has enough room within her bonds to move very slightly.  Isabela stands back, next to Fenris with her hands on her hips, her head cocked.  “How’re you feeling?”

“Good,” Hawke gasps, “Really good.”

 

Isabela takes a deep breath and smiles, then turns her gaze to Fenris.  He scowls at Hawke, his arms wrapped around his chest, then he glances at Isabela.  “This isn’t… I...” he mumbles, and Isabela tuts.

“We talked about this,” she chides him gently.  “This isn’t for us.”  Her expression softens and she strokes his arm gently, gesturing to Hawke kneeling at their feet with her other hand, “But look at her.  I mean, really look, Fenris.”

 

Hawke watches them.  They feel very far away now; the sweet abrasion of the rope against her, the dull ache of her bonds, is the primary focus of her mind.  Fenris sighs, unfolding his arms and looking at her steadily.  Isabela smiles and kneels down in front of Hawke.

“Look at you, pretty.  You’re so beautiful, just aching there.”  Isabela raises an eyebrow, and her smile changes into a smirk once more.  “Now, my question is, what are you gonna do about it?” 

  
  


Slowly, Fenris approaches her and kneels once more; Isabela shifts slightly so that he has space.  Their bodies are so close to Hawke’s own - she feels as if the three of them create a small universe between them, the weight of their presence heavy and comforting.  Fenris’ eyes dart rapidly over her body - Hawke cannot help the way her eyes fall shut and come open again in long, slow blinks as he takes her in.  “Please,” she murmurs, “Please.”

But she doesn’t know what she’s pleading for.  He seems to know this - the look in his eyes softens, becomes less cautious.  Slowly, he reaches out, lets his fingers graze over her nipple, the touch gentle.  Hawke whimpers again, her toes curling and her hips rock involuntarily forward again as her eyes fall closed at the slow roil of pleasure, low down, between her hips.  “That’s it,” Isabela murmurs, her fingers sliding around the rope which wraps around Hawke’s waist - the delicious sensation making the muscles in Hawke’s thighs quiver.  She grinds her teeth together, pushes her hips forward and back again.  The slick from her makes the ropes abrasion even more enticing; she feels the heat of Isabela’s breath on her neck, ghosting over her flesh and gives a long, low moan.  

 

Fenris grunts and she hears him shift a little.  “Tell us,” he mutters, “Tell us what you feel.”

Hawke opens her mouth, takes a breath, arching her spine a little.  Isabela’s knots hold tight, just this side of uncomfortable, enough to make their presence felt continually.  She can still feel the weight of their gazes upon her, and the ache deep within seems to suffuse her entire body.  “Tell us,” Fenris murmurs, and Isabela’s lips are there, on her shoulder between the bonds, Hawke shivers under the touch, rolls her hips as much as she’s able; back and forth, back and forth, the tiny movements sending great waves of pleasure through her body.  “Fen,” she gasps, and hears Isabela laugh, feels her fingers moving nimbly over the rope which binds her, “Oh, Maker, I… I think I’m…”

 

“Not yet, sweets,” Isabela purrs in her ear, and Hawke feels her hands again, soft flesh against flesh, “Tell Fenris.  Go on.  You can do it.  Take a moment, then tell him all about it.”

Hawke makes a keening noise deep in her throat, her eyes opening for just a second before she allows them to fall closed again.  In that instant, she takes in the red-gold glow of the lamp, the shine of Fenris’ eyes, the heat in his gaze.  She takes a deep, shuddering breath and swallows.  “I… feels good,” she gasps, “Feels like… being, I… I mean, it, it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t feel too much and it does, it’s like… feels fucking good, like… you here, you and ‘Bela, feels… feels right, feels safe.  You two, just watching me, fuck, Maker… Feels… oh, Maker, please,  _ please _ , I…”

 

She grits her teeth, stifling the cry building within her.  Desperately, she tries to halt the rhythm of her hips even momentarily, to buy herself some time - but her body is intent now, intent on chasing the pleasure she seeks.  Dimly, as if from a distance, Hawke feels Isabela’s lips curl against her skin - feels her wrap her legs around her body.  The warmth, the security of the gesture seems to break some internal dam within Hawke, and she sobs aloud, catching herself by surprise.  Instantly, Fenris’ hands are on her shoulders, she can feel him there, sense his concern.  She wants to tell him  _ I’m fine _ ; she parts her lips, forming the words, but no sound comes.  Hawke draws in a great whooping breath, sobs it out again and Fenris’ hands tighten.  “That’s it,” Isabela murmurs, “You’ve done so well, you’re so beautiful, come for us, sweets.  Come now.”

 

Those words, just those words are all Hawke needs.  Her pleasure is upon her suddenly, brilliant, blinding in the way it consumes every other sensation.  It seems to come from everywhere at once, seems in that moment that it is without end; and she has never felt so safe, so secure, at any other time of her life.  Everything else is so distant.  

 

But eventually she comes back to the quiet of Isabela’s cabin; to warm hands upon her, swift fingers loosening her bindings, stroking her hair, soft voices murmuring.  Hawke blinks her eyes, gazes blearily at Fenris, who smiles a little, then looks at her worriedly.  “Are you alright?” he asks, and she nods.  Isabela chuckles.

“Better than alright, I hope,” she murmurs, then looks sharply at Hawke.  “I won’t be too much longer here.”

“Take… take your time,” Hawke rasps, and smiles, feeling drunk.  “Not going anywhere.”

“Very funny,” Fenris mutters, and sighs.  He looks at Isabela, studying her for a long moment before telling her, “Thank you.”

She shrugs and half-smiles.  “It was my pleasure,” Isabela tells him, then turns her gaze upward, toward Hawke.  “Or it will be.  I almost hope we never get the wind back.  You two are fun to have around.”

 

Hawke smiles, lifting her eyes from Isabela to Fenris.  He smiles back at her, and she sighs happily, feeling her heart swell, satisfaction nestled deep within her.  The feeling only grows as Isabela undoes all her handiwork, as together with Fenris, she lifts Hawke to her feet and helps her to wash, as together they wrap her in blankets and deposit her in Isabela’s wide berth.  She falls asleep between them, the little smile still on her lips, listening to the sound of their voices lilt and rock around her, the sea beneath them, the wide world all around. 


End file.
